Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Look at me--a repost

Look at me. I mean really look at me. I know I am not much too look at now but at one time I was the answer to prayers. I was loved. Someone once saved and scrimped to have me, and was so happy when they could finally claim me as their own. I was one of the high points of their life. They worked and did all kinds of stuff just to have me. They planted flowers and bushes for beauty to surround me.
I had a family….I heard the laughter of the children along with their quiet talks with mom and dad. I heard the children playing on my porch and in the yard. They had a swing in the old oak tree that used to stand out to the side here. They caught lightening bugs in the dusk of summer evenings…finally, after growing tired they would settle on my front porch to plan for another day.

I was home to them...I kept them warm in the winter and sheltered them from the storms of summer. I was the place they took refuge in when life got hard. I saw them through the Great Depression, I was here when the son came home from WWII. I saw one daughter sneak her first kiss in the swing on my front porch. Another left here to be the first to go to college.
Meals were cooked in my kitchen, Thanksgiving and Christmases were celebrated, friends came and went. I was at the center of their life. My living room was a welcoming friend at the end of a long day's work. I was the holder of their dreams.

What led from then to now, happened so gradually I was hardly aware of it happening…the children grew up and married and had homes of their own…after several years the dad died, and not too long after that the mom passed….you can sort of imagine the rest. I was going through my own grieving and was hardly aware of time passing.
Now I am in this state and an eyesore to some, while a few others look at me and wonder what tales I could tell if I could talk.
*********
Some of you have read this--I hope you don't mind the repeat.  I am bringing it back to share with Linda's Wednesday Wit and Wisdom at Senior Adventures.  At least if I can remember.

11 comments:

Ginny said...

This is wonderful, you are quite a writer! Is all this true, do you know about the family? Or just supposing. Either way, it is poignant and sad.

Terri B said...

Nice tribute to the old home- when I see these old places I sometimes wonder what I hear if the walls could talk. This one looks pretty solid- wonder why it was abandoned.

Sandra said...

I love this old house and your words are just beautiful. i had no idea you are such a great writer.. this fits all the old homes we see that are left to rot and fall down... love this post and i don't remember it at all. thanks for the repost and a look into the past

Anita said...

Lovely pic.
Nicely shared.

DeniseinVA said...

I am happy for the repeat Rose as it is a first for me. It is also wonderful to read and I love the photos and the look of this old house. What stories it could tell. Thank you for giving it a voice :)

Stephanie said...

It is not a repeat for me as I am seeing and reading it for the first time. Great story and love the broken down old house.

EG CameraGirl said...

Lovely tribute to a once-loved home, Rose.

Small City Scenes said...

Now I am wiping a tear away. You said it all. MB

thirtysevenandcounting said...

What a wonderful, thoughtful post! Rose, you have so many talents! :)

Lindy

Linda Kay said...

What a perfect story and picture to add to the Wednesday Wit and Wisdom. Thanks for joining in. I look forward to your next entry!

Paula said...

Like this very much. Not sure if you are using your imagination or it was a part of your life. I once took an old house in the country and wrote a poem about what I thought went on there in the life of a family. Thank you for visiting my blog. Paula from south Texas.

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